


Within You

by whitachi



Series: Within [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Hair Kink, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Robot Sex, USB Blasting, Wire Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 16:02:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15295065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitachi/pseuds/whitachi
Summary: Connor and Hank have gotten into a comfortable habit with each other. It's time to try something new.





	Within You

**Author's Note:**

> Directly follows [Within the Wires](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14971343) and [Within Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15077135).
> 
> For the ever-inspiring and endlessly thirsty Jerries. I will meet David Cage with pistols at dawn.

Connor wasn't Hank's type. At all. Hank's type had always been guys like himself, big and thick and hairy and capable of shoving him against things. The most use he'd had for guys like Connor was back when he was a bouncer; they were real easy to toss out of a joint. But now there he was, all 160 pounds of twink sitting on the other end of his sofa. And Hank knew before the night was out, he'd probably be sitting on his lap. Because Connor might not have been his type, but fuck, that didn't matter. He was something special.

Connor was slowly, barely learning how to sit like a person. He slouched just a little, let the couch hold some of his weight. It was all clearly a measured, calculated attempt at relaxing, which Hank had to admit made him smile. The LED in his temple was a soft blue, flickering just a little now and then as he watched the hockey game Hank had playing on the TV -- the game that Hank wasn't paying a dick's worth of attention to because he was looking just out of the corner of his eye at Connor's face.

The kid was _pretty_. He had been designed by committee to be, what was it, approachable? Unthreatening? Easy to trust? Hank had seen him screaming threats in an interrogation room, so he didn't know if Connor was actually any of those things, but right now, sitting on his couch, he was fucking pretty. Some Cyberlife designer had picked out each little freckle on his face, decided to give him those faint wrinkles in his forehead. Hank had to admit, whoever they were, they'd done a good job.

Connor was pretty, and pretty wasn't Hank's type, but still they'd been doing what they'd been doing around every other night for the past two weeks. They'd come home, Hank would have dinner, he'd crack open a beer and within half an hour Connor would be pushing Hank's fingers into his neck, climbing into his lap, and playing with his dick until they both made each other come. Connor usually more than once, greedy little bastard, but Hank could hardly blame him. When he'd first discovered orgasms he'd been non-stop at it, too.

But Connor seemed content tonight. Hank had gotten through a whole two beers without even a judgemental comment, that's how unobtrusive Connor was feeling. It seemed like it was enough for him to just watch the game; or, fuck, like Hank even knew, maybe he was deep in downloading great literature or weird porn into his brain. Nah, though, not that. His LED'd be going nuts. Hank was learning a few things.

The skin on the back of Connor's neck was sprinkled with freckles. Hank could see a little lower than usual, as Connor was wearing one of his old t-shirts, one of the many he hadn't fit into in years but hadn't had the heart to throw away, even when moving after the divorce. Above the list of tour dates and locations the collar hung low on Connor's neck, and Hank could see the rise of his spine, the curve of it, all the more freckles on his skin. It'd be warm under Hank's touch, his skin would be soft, and the hairs on his neck wouldn't even prickle up.

Like Hank was _not_ going to be fixated on Connor's neck. That was all he'd really seen, all he'd really touched. They kissed and they touched when they were... he didn't know what to call it. "Fucking" wasn't quite right. "Having sex" wasn't enough. When they were doing whatever they were doing, all Hank ever really touched were the wires in Connor's neck and the rest of Connor through his clothes. Connor kissed Hank everywhere he could reach, tasted his neck and sucked on his beard like a goddamn weirdo, but no clothes had ever come off for anything more. Maybe Hank didn't want clothes to come off. He didn't look good with his clothes off.

But he had to wonder. Connor'd found the one good thing that worked for him, but maybe there were other things, too. Maybe there were other places Hank could or should be touching. Hank wondered what other little freckles and marks had been designed on Connor's body, if there were any. Maybe he was as blank as a canvas below the neck. Connor wasn't his type, but he still wanted to know.

Hank reached over and brushed his fingers over the back of Connor's neck.

Annoyingly, Connor didn't react. Hank snorted a little breath and touched again, more firmly this time, and that was it, that got it. Connor's LED spun and he blinked a few times. "Lieutenant?" he said. God, Hank hated how that word was starting to give him wood every time it came out of Connor's mouth.

"Yeah?" Hank said, and he stroked his fingers a little harder. Connor's skin stayed perfectly normal, warm, human skin as he touched him, no sign of the smooth white, no sign of the little panel that was his gateway to getting Connor off. It still felt good to touch him.

He saw the little edge of Connor's mouth curve up. "What are you doing?"

Hank let out a soft laugh. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

Connor's LED flickered yellow as he turned slightly to look at him. "Are you trying to initiate intimacy?"

"Yeah," Hank said, and could feel his face get hot and red, which he hated. "Got a problem with that?"

"No," Connor said, and turned off the TV with a flicker of his LED. "You just never have before."

"Yeah, well," Hank said, and moved his fingers up into the short edges of Connor's hair, which was softer than Hank expected. "First time for everything, right?"

"As you've recently proven, yes," Connor said, a little smirk curving up one side of his mouth.

"Ah, shut it and c'mere," Hank said, and tugged at Connor until he smiled and moved, settling into his growingly familiar spot on Hank's lap. He was smiling down at Hank, looking just so pleased with himself. "You got a real shit-eating grin on your face right now, you know that?"

"I'm very aware of what my face is doing," he said, and rested his hands on Hank's shoulders. His fingers were against the back of Hank's neck, the two of them mirroring each other. "Should I _not_ be expressing happiness that you want to do this with me?"

"No, you should," Hank said, and his own mouth was knotting up into something he was fighting from turning into a smile. "You just need to know you look like a real goofy jackass doing it." That just made Connor smile even more, and Hank snorted. "C'mere," he said again, and tugged Connor down to kiss him.

Hank hadn't spent this much time making out since he was a teenager. Connor'd learned to really appreciate kissing; he'd been strange and awkward at first but had taken right do it in short enough time. Hank wondered if he'd downloaded techniques or something, installed some sort of program meant for a sex android or something, but that didn't seem like the Connor he knew. Connor liked action. He liked accomplishment. Hank wanted to believe he'd gotten good at kissing because he'd learned it the hard way. He was damn good at following Hank's lead.

Hank kept stroking his fingers up and down the back of Connor's neck, where his skin was still warm and soft and human. "C'mon," Hank murmured against his mouth. "You gonna let me in?"

Connor nuzzled at his lips. "Are you in a hurry, lieutenant?" There was no breath behind Connor's words when he spoke, just the faint humming feeling of sound against his skin. It was goddamn weird, and Hank wasn't ready to admit that he was getting to like it.

"Me?" So what if maybe he was? Maybe he was feeling eager to hear those sounds that Connor made, maybe he needed to feel Connor shivering in his arms and clutching at him. "Nah, no rush," he said, but brushed his thumb down Connor's neck in a way that made him make a soft noise. He smiled a little against Connor's mouth. "You're just usually a lot more, y'know, _eager_."

"I assure you, my enthusiasm is as high as ever," Connor said, and rolled his hips forward a little, as if to say, _and obviously so is yours_ , that son of a bitch. "But what you said about there being a first time for everything. It made me think of something I'd like to try."

Hank leaned back enough to look at Connor's face. There were _way_ too many fucking possibilities for what Connor could have in mind now. Maybe he wanted Hank to stick his tongue in there, or maybe he wanted him to shove his hand in his guts and finger his thirium pump. _Fuck_ , Hank's life had gotten so weird so fast that he was even thinking about shit like that. "Yeah?" he said, raising his eyebrows and keeping cool. "What's that?"

"Tasting your ejaculate after you climax has been very satisfying for me," Connor said, and how the fuck those laboratory-sterile words hit Hank right in the gut was a goddamn mystery. He'd done it every time, too, methodically and carefully licking every drop off his hand and giving Hank heart palpitations. "So I'm interested in further exploration of the subject."

Hank's head swam for a moment. "You wanna give me a blowjob?"

Connor smiled at him, sweet and eager. "Yes, to put it succinctly."

"Fuck," Hank said, and closed his eyes for a moment just to fucking _cope_. "Yeah. Yeah, go for it. Explore away." Connor looked excited as he moved from off of Hank's lap to kneel on the floor in front of him. Hank thought of something. "Just no teeth, okay?"

"Please, lieutenant, I know _that_ ," Connor said as he placed his hands on both of Hank's thighs and slowly started moving them up. The intimacy of the touch made Hank gasp.

"Hey, I don't know what the fuck you know," Hank said. God, he really didn't. Every time he thought he had any part of Connor figured out, he surprised him again. He put his hand back on Connor's neck to stroke his fingers restlessly over his skin.

"I know enough," Connor said, and tugged Hank's sweatpants down enough to reveal his dick, which curved up hard against the swell of Hank's gut. Hank took deep breaths and just felt _hot_ all over as Connor examined him, closer than ever before. He wanted to know what the hell Connor saw in him that was so damn interesting and also he never, ever wanted to ask.

Connor looked up at him for a moment, those big stupid brown eyes of his so soft and _pretty_. Then he leaned in to put that tongue of his, that damned tongue of his, to the tip of Hank's cock. Hank sucked in a breath and Connor made a thoughtful sound.

"What?" Hank asked, his voice rough, even though he didn't really want to know. Connor just shook his head, closed his lips around the head of Hank's dick, and sucked him in. He went slow with it; he said he'd wanted to explore, and he was exploring. His tongue was everywhere, mapping out every inch of him. Hank felt like he was being devoured.

Hank's breath caught in his throat when he realized Connor wasn't stopping, wasn't pulling back, because _fuck_ , no, androids didn't have a gag reflex to worry about, didn't need to breathe. "Jesus Christ," he got out as Connor took him in all the way to the root, his forehead pressed to Hank's stomach. He paused there for a moment, and Hank squeezed at the back of his neck. "You good, Connor?"

Connor pulled back. His eyes were closed. Hank had had to specifically tell him to close his eyes when they were kissing. "I'm good," Connor said, and opened his eyes, looking up at him, so fucking _pretty_. His LED was spinning and flickering, rhythms that Hank would never make sense of. "I like this," Connor said, and the way he said it sounded like he was simplifying a thousand thoughts down into three words. "Can I continue?"

"Fuck, yes, you can," Hank said, and leaned further back into the couch. Connor put his hands on Hank's hips to steady himself and took his dick back between his lips.

He was slow and steady at first, learning and exploring, just like he'd been when they first kissed, just like the first time he'd wrapped his hand around Hank's dick. He was a quick study, though -- of course he was, he was fucking _Connor_. He was analyzing every single twitch in Hank's body, counting the beats of his pulse and the pace of his breath, finding ways to know him in ways Hank could never know himself. The thought made him bite his lip and groan as his dick twitched in Connor's mouth.

Connor moaned _back_ and ran his tongue against the slit of Hank's dick, tasting where he had to be leaking precome. "Fuck," Hank said as the attention made him shudder. He thought of Connor licking his fingers. "Better up close, huh?"

Connor drew back enough to simply say, his voice soft and earnest, "Yes." And then, so sweetly, before his mouth covered again, he said, "Hank." Hank's breath shook out of him in a rush. He felt those words like a wildfire catching in his chest. He couldn't meet the thought head on. Connor was doing this, was enjoying this because of _him_. Not because it was convenient, not because it was a favor returned. It seemed too big and impossible to consider. _Him?_

"Okay, fuck, fuck, open up," Hank said, curling his fingers at the back of Connor's neck. He had to _do_ something. "Give and take, come on, I'm not one to just sit back, you know?" He was babbling, but Connor made a soft sound around his dick and then reached up to touch his own neck as it went smooth and white and reveal the panel. Hank had never actually _seen_ the wires he'd been so intimate with; he'd just learned them by feel. He pressed his fingers inside of Connor's neck and let out a shaky breath as Connor moaned and grabbed at his thighs. "You're really something, Connor. You're really... really something fucking else."

He stopped being able to think after that, and that was perfect, that was just what he wanted. Connor was noisy as ever as he fingered and fiddled with his wires, but muffled now by Hank's dick buried deep in his mouth. He pawed at Hank's hips, and then his hands were under his t-shirt. His fingers spread out over his stomach and then curled up, his perfect, artificial nails dragging through Hank's body hair. Connor moaned and touched him more, smooth fingers moving over every part of Hank's skin. No one had touched him like that in such a long time. He was sweating and Connor's fingers just slipped through it. Hank swore and put his free hand into Connor's hair, brushing his fingers back through it.

Connor pulled off of Hank's dick with a needy sound. "Hank," he said, and god, it still was so strange how his breathing was perfectly even paced even when his voice sounded like that. "Please, do that again."

Hank ran his fingers back through Connor's hair and he could see the shiver run down Connor's body in a way that wasn't quite human, but instead more like a roll of blackouts heading down his spine. Hank fucking wanted to see him naked. "Like that?"

"Yes," Connor said, and looked him in the eyes. It was too much, but Hank wasn't going to look away. "I've never been touched that way before. It's very good. Please don't stop."

"Fuck," Hank said as he kept stroking his hand through Connor's hair, which was smooth and cool to the touch. "I will. I got you, Connor."

Just before Connor sucked Hank's dick back between his lips, he said, just a simple statement of fact, "I like how you say my name."

"I like how you say mine," Hank said in return, low and soft. Then he was groaning as Connor swallowed him deep with not a moment's hesitation.

They found a rhythm like that, Hank teasing at Connor's wires and working his fingers through his hair with the motions of Connor's head as it bobbed in his lap. Hank wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn't stop watching Connor. His skin was unflushed and pale as ever as his lips stretched over Hank's dick, but the LED at his temple was endlessly spinning and flickering. Hank brushed his thumb over it and Connor's eyelashes fluttered. So goddamn pretty Hank didn't know what to do.

Connor had him good. Hank felt it in his balls, orgasm unstoppably close as Connor kept working over him with tongue and lips. He curled his fingers in Connor's hair. "I'm gonna come," he said, his voice rough. "But you can tell that, can't you?" Connor nodded, just the smallest gesture, and Hank let out a loud "fuck!" as he came into Connor's mouth, spilling thick over his tongue.

And _fuck_ , Connor liked that, he liked it so much he moaned and shuddered and grabbed at Hank's thighs, so much it was like he was.... Hank closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the couch. If this goddamn android had gotten off from swallowing his load he was going to... die? Buy a lottery ticket? What the fuck _was_ he going to do?

He knew what he was going to do. He pulled Connor's head back from where he was still trying to suck on his over-sensitized dick. "C'mon, that's enough, I've got nothing left." He guided Connor's head to rest against his thigh and kept stroking his hair. "That was good. You did a real good fucking job, Connor."

"Good job fucking?" Connor said, sounding dazed. Hank actually laughed at that and twisted the wires in his neck to make him jolt.

"Yeah, we'll get there," Hank said, though he was too exhausted to actually think about how they could, what they could. He just looked at Connor's face where he leaned against his thigh. His eyes were closed and small twitches of expression played across his features as Hank played with him. "You're fucking pretty, you know that?"

"I thought I was a goofy jackass," he said, it sounded like with some difficulty. Hank let his nails skim over Connor's scalp and watched his eyelashes go.

"Yeah, you're both," Hank said. He twirled the wires in his fingers and Connor bit his lip. He hadn't been able to watch Connor's face when they'd first started doing this, but now it was all he wanted to do. It was fucking terrifying, the newest, biggest, most impossible thing in the world, but he wanted it. "C'mon, I got you."

  
  
  



End file.
